


Lucky problem

by fish_wifey



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 20:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1996551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fish_wifey/pseuds/fish_wifey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Midorima's Lucky Item of the day is problematic and he chooses to ignore it. Except Takao won't let him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lucky problem

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I ever wrote for them, and god, don't talk to me about how cliche it is, /I know/. However, I put my heart and soul into it, kept bringing seperate headcanons and ideas together and also bullied myself into writing sexy scenes. Sorry if there isn't anything descriptive in there and also sorry they don't bang ;A;
> 
> However, this is my child and I love it nonetheless. 
> 
> (also to all of you lovelies who have seen the Kurobas cup, with the ending cards? Yea I've seen it too, and one the scenes in the fic reflects the clothings of my favourite Midotakao ending card (with Mr. Penguin). Let's say don't talk about the day they've spent with the rest because they're too in love uvu)

The turning of the newspaper page rustled past Shintarou’s chest as he stood in the underground train, letting his thumb hover over his next button of his phone. While he listened to a relaxing tune of strings, he had to keep one arm up and steady his body. All these bends and people (-seeing his situation, he might as well try and 'accidentally' -no.) were a drag today. However, his mood didn't improve after he had watched today's horoscope. It had been alright for him in the first part; keep away from people with x-legs, avoid making hasty decision, give attention to close friends, but don't make any social plans with big groups for the night. There shouldn’t be any surprises, except maybe the good kind, and that was that. Nothing too hard to cope with and he's sure the few people who didn't annoy him too much wouldn't be too hard to deal with today.

It's been today's lucky item which got Shintarou's nerves working up, heightening his heart pace -for as long as he would let it, relaxing it through inhaling deeper than usual- and giving him a nasty edge. Surely, he'd seen worse. Goldfish, red tartan handkerchiefs, or the infamous pig plush. He'd sometimes had to visit more than just one shop to get what he needed, but as Kimura once had put it rather brutality; he’s very anal about getting them no matter what.

This is why today's prayer to the gods was a yet unheard of, unthinkable act of unkindness. Closing his phone with a snap and checking the tight wrapping taped on one of his fingers, Shintarou considered it again. Usually, statues of animals would do, little ridiculous looking things he'd carry around all day. Never anything to hazardous or some sort of troublemaker; and even if so, he carried it with dignity. Fate truly tested him today.

Fingers itched with an edge buzzing through him, disliking the incapability of rewatching the show; the need to hear it again and make sure he didn't misinterpret the meaning of it all. Instead, he let the words he’d heard this morning penetrate his brain yet another time, imagined it to mean anything else, willing himself into hearing another meaning behind it.

 _Anything_ else, for the love of all holy things on this earth.

 

*~*~*

_"A kiss from a person-"_

After asking three different girls (-of which he knew watched Oha Asa as well) around his high school about the issue of the day, each confirmed the truth of it, a kiss from a person it had to be; it wasn't something one could buy, no actual 'item' Shintarou could carry around. One girl named Hirono, a cancer herself, followed the same regime of checking her horoscope, and purified his belief there had been no mistake, and their source kept to be reliable as always. A kiss he needed, and nothing less (-good for her, she got a boyfriend who had taken care of it for her today, but she’d been quick to pre-protest if Shintarou got any ideas…)

'From a person', the problem didn't just lie with kissing someone. Shintarou didn't have anyone special, no one who held a special place in his heart or who’d been a lot on his mind, no one made him become a ridiculous idiot babbling about stupid and unimportant things. Boy or girl wasn’t an issue here. Although his upbringing brought being raised in a certain way, Shintarou had always been open and progressive in his thinking, only never had cared to discuss it.

No, today's main fix and idiocy directed itself to the 'from'. All together, every part of the luck-getting would be awkward, and highly inappropriate. It would mean kissing someone he never had feelings for, someone he'd know or didn't know, and it should come ' _from_ ' the other person, rather than Shintarou being able to steal one and then run for his soul-dropping, shameful life.

And God, he had considered it. It would be easy enough, outrunning them before the shame and the aftermath would drive him to a cold Hell. But Hirono herself had been tight about it, 'you can ask the person, if need be, explain the situation. But initiating the kiss entirely shouldn't be done to increase your chances. Be sure to be pulled into it, or don't do it at all'.

Which had torn at him. Not doing it. A simple consideration of letting the issue drop and not think another hair-ripping thought of it. After the first two hours of assembly, math and world history, he'd avoided all social contact, pushed a x-legged girl out of his way without saying sorry and found a silent place in the halls to study and be on his own. Not getting the 'item' didn't bring colossal damage to his being, as it sometimes has lured to do in the past.

And yet, swatting away Takao's hand mid-air, it didn't let go. While Shintarou raised his history book high up and not letting any distraction come through as he read on Japan's 60's recovery, his skin on edge by standing upright and crawling with a tingle which drove him crazy. The tingle, in this case, came from Takao's presence, all-seeing eyes that didn't face away, knees rooted to their place, sneakers close behind (-why the idiot sat _between_ Shintarou’s legs, was beyond him. He had stopped questioning Takao’s uncalled for closeness a long time ago).

Takao had the urge to be an exceptional ass at the worst of times. Someone he'd got used to easily and didn't mind to have around, peaked with his annoyance between twelve and one o'clock for lunch, then subdued into a low spoken tone calming any outrageous moodswings Shintarou would like to keep hidden. Every once and a while, against his will and denied if asked, he enjoyed having an acquaintance like Takao around.

However, today wouldn’t do, the horrifying prospect of not having an item and facing the consequences. Shintarou's horoscope resembled an insect with wings, fluttering around his head with a maddening buzz-sound, but being too quick to kill. Takao came in close second, his lean body hidden by their wide uniforms, to which Shintarou’s mind conjured the boy without. A second, if not more demanding and irritating kind of displeasure (-if more annoying and present), now sitting way too close and not giving a quarter of space (-as if he belonged here).

The point of jumping out of the window came when his history book vanished from his fingers and the boy of questionable brightness hunched between Shintarou's knees as if he did it everyday and should be the most normal place for him . In his face, questioning eyebrow up and his face tilted to the side, Takao regarded him in a hushed silence. People were walking past them, making his opposite flick into visibility and back to darkness when the sun wasn't blocked by the passer-by's. It gave Takao an unneeded, extra alluring sensuality. 

“You’re unreasonably quiet today.” Shintarou had gotten so used to the ever-present grin, eager to widen at the tiniest provocation. The closer Takao got, the more Shintarou’s feet tingled into kicking him away. Takao must be able to radar those moments, as he glanced up for a short chuckle.

“I was reading that.” Takao leafed through the stolen book, eyes disinterested, not as distracted as he liked to look on first glance. When no reaction came, Shintarou went on, brushing hair out of his eyes. "You're more annoying than usual."

"Which gives you permission to be more uptight than usual? Sheesh, I'm just worried, you know? Friends happen to do so every once in a while."

Friends. A term Shintarou had once used describing Takao to his mother, and the woman nearly had let the dinner tablet fall out of her hands (-if Shintarou hadn't caught it). It had been the first week and she'd been asking twenty questions, and well, he hadn't seen much choice in denying Takao's existence (-which by that point, as astonishing persistent already), who had been talking to him more than the rest of the basketball team, after the unforgettable entrance and clear goal, spoken off freely, with great ambition and an easy look on it. They hadn’t become friends right away. Takao had shown great persistence and stamina in keeping up with the Shuutoku training, and so they’d become teammates, if Shintarou cared or not. Shintarou wouldn’t ever admit it to Takao how valuable and reliable he’d become on and off the court, but the truth remained in Shintarou’s head.

Inside, Shintarou didn't mind the link to the word and the man before him, strange as it felt. The ‘worried’ part of the earlier sentiment omitted in his thoughts. No need to give Takao more gunpowder to agonize his day with.

 _Outside_ , he tried hitting him with the book on his head, snatching his book first out of loose hands and aiming in a swing, only to watch Takao avoid in a graceful motion to the back, coming forward once more (-closer, goddamnit) and bracing impact with his hands on either side of Shintarou's head.

And that's when he first felt it. An uncalled wish to bring his head up, off the wall, and into the abyss. On second thought, his issue seduced him to it, and his unconscious self taking action. Shintarou stopped mid-way when his mind cleared up the fog of ridiculosity, revealing what he’d almost tried to do, sat back and sighed through his nose while glancing away. No hasty decisions at all costs. _Specially_ not with this guy (-who had kept an absurd calm...or hadn’t noticed Shintarou’s near-experience of collapsing into surreality).

"Have you seen it!? So embarrassing~! How am I to get a boy to kiss me today?" A group of people walked behind Takao again, carefully swooping around their strange bubble to avoid the pair on the ground. 

"Kanae, really, you'd only need to ask!"

"No freaking way, oh my- stay off, Tatanobu!" In plain sight, Shintarou saw a light-brown haired girl run away from one of her classmates, while laughing out loud. The boy teased her about the compatibility of cancers and scorpio's, caught her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Shintarou balled a fist.

Girls _surely_ had it easier today.

From his peripheral vision he noticed Takao facing the same direction with wonder and a half-formed smile, than back to the now avoiding glance not given.

"Ah, that got me thinking...what's your lucky item today? I can't recall seeing it anywhere."

*~*~*

Shuutoku High stopped their academic activities earlier on this day. Given to various impromptu conference meetings of the teacher-body, Shintarou's last two periods were cancelled. After pushing Takao aside, leaving him where he’d stood beside Shintarou’s desk, and not answering any question as to what they should do before practice starts. Shintarou made sure to not cross paths with a certain nosy brat as to avoid further questioning. The closeness and the impossible urges pounding between his ears, off-balanced his usual neat and orderly set up mind. Now, studying in the school's library (-and definitely not hiding, as Takao's mail suggested), this time distracted by sunshine rather than writing notes on the French revolution.

The day half over, he’d given up on today’s freak ‘item’, which wasn’t a thing at all anymore but a joke on his part. There had been minor incidents; from missing toilet paper, red bean soup out of order, his books falling out of his hand all the way down the stairs, scattering notes everywhere (-no Takao to help him pick it up, successfully lost him in the halls)...nothing life threatening. Only minor flies in his not-available beverage. _And still, all avoidable_. He should have just done it. Whoosh off some place quiet and abandoned, get Takao into believing yet again how this helped the greater good of Shintarou's well-being, make him understand it meant nothing special, really, and have him kissing Shintarou for a short hot second.

Takao would've understand. He'd make his jokes first, ask if Shintarou had a fever, maybe become infuriated, embarrassed, un-agreeable, but he'd understand. Even if he wouldn’t enjoy it, wouldn’t look forward to it, Hell, maybe even say no...he wouldn’t rat him out to anyone. There was no such disloyalty between them. Sadly enough, out of everyone he knew, Takao remained one of the few who understood the importance and reliability of the horoscope, had seen it with his own eyes. Even before, when he’d been insufferable and mean about it, Takao never became worse than the rest of the team, accepting Shintarou the way he was.

Instead, Shintarou pushed away the possible outcome of asking Takao, and let life be the way they knew it (-not like Takao's words put it, 'running away', in the second message).

"Oi Shin-chan, are you seriously going to sit here until practice starts?" _It was unbelievable_. 

"I am studying and doing homework. No matter how good one's body is, one has to start with the mind before exercising." Keeping his cool in impossible circumstances had always been Shintarou’s unsung speciality. He wouldn’t let Takao’s determined and faulty bonding needs upset him again. Or his coming closer.

"Yes yes yes, well, don't get your glasses all hot and foggy about it. No horror practise today! The school gave us a small acknowledgement to use for our excellent progression, so the captain felt pressured into inviting the whole team for a dinner. I’ve send to ask you to come too since you're not answering calls OR messages." Takao took a chair, turned it around and sat on it, placing his arms on top of the back and resting his chin on it. Shintarou didn’t believe it for one second, that anyone had to send him here to pester him. One way or the other, Takao would have searched the whole building to find him, only to be a perfect pest.

"I can't come."

Concentrating on his fingers, letting them leaf through one of the heavier volumes upon the great conqueror Napoleon, he noticed Takao's eyes; how they observed the falling pages leaving Shintarou’s not-wrapped thumb to Shintarou himself (-once again, not-hiding behind a book. At all).

"What do you mean, can't? It's on the same time as practice, did you have the intend to skip it before already?"

"Today isn't a good day to play basketball, so I-"

"Eh, wait a minute. Didn't you just say studying should go before exercise? Why the Hell would you skip it, then? Come on, Shin-chan," He hated this note in Takao's suave voice, hated it with all his guts. He disliked the way he had stopped caring about being called by such a ridiculous close nickname as long as it was said in such a way, ridiculing himself by being so torn about the matter. "Tell me the reason your mood is off _this_ time." It wasn’t Shintarou’s personality at all. Knowing Takao a bit too well, having noticed certain little things, he heard the reason why Takao’s voice sounded pissed off. He didn’t mind Shintarou not being in a good mood, he only wanted to know why, hated if he wasn’t trusted by his partner

A low groan never reached the top of his throat and he swallowed it prior to create it. Setting the book aside, he regarded his once-again-opposite, sitting at his side. Definitely not a hard face to look at, long hair which girls seemed to like (-teammates too, often ruffling it up), grey eyes were able to see a lot more than letting on, reading people who had the intent to stay unreadable. Sure enough, Takao wouldn't have been a bad choice- and still. Shintarou didn’t want to enforce himself in such a way upon Takao, no matter how tempting the thought become by every passing hour.

No social plans for the night. It included the team more than anything.

"I'm not going and that's that. I don't care what you think or what you will say to the coach and captain. Eat my share."

"Sheesh, okay, don't snap at me, you great dumb idiot. It's not my fault you couldn't get what you needed for your horoscope shit, Shin _tarou_." Standing up, the back of the chair rammed into the edge of table, the mood turning to ice as cold as the winter mornings which were far, far off. It resurfaced once more, soaring through his veins and pumping them up with quicker flowing blood, the urge, now called out by Takao’s temper and the disturbing attractiveness of it; be forward, grab what you need and be done with it. He could outrun Takao easy, hide for him forever, _right_.

Holding Takao's wrist surprised him, though.

Both boys were exchanging glances as if one had slapped the other. Shintarou's grip didn't falter, intensified through his stoic, poker-faced embarrassment. Fear rose up in his chest and collected bile from his stomach to mess him up dearly. Takao’s eyes were widened, surprised, but not unkind anymore.

"You're an idiot. I hope that is as much as clear to you as it has been for me all this time." Takao acted annoyed, but in a easy-going sort of way. Rushing the free hand through green hair, Takao bowed down and came close up to Shintarou's face, who kept his breathing controlled, his torso upright, his hand clasped around Takao’s arm as it belonged there and his eyes focussed and unblinking. His mind yelled at him to say something, clarify the situation, _ask_. His mouth hijacked by the heart, dry throat unable to grumble a halt, seam not opening a slit.

It happened fairly quickly. A gentle thumb pushing his chin down, opening reluctant lips, the sharp intake belonging only to himself while he watched Takao's lids close as they came closer. A heart attack the first moment, soft lips the second, a taste of soda upon the invading tongue in the last. Shintarou would remember everything in detail, from the tiny brush of noses, to the tickling of hair which wasn't his own on his cheek, how he held his breath -the same breath-, until their lip-lock got broken up by the initiator.

"There you go, lucky item received. Can we hang someplace more relaxing now? That revolution essay isn't due to next week and you're way too ahead already. Come on, you bespectacled idiot." Takao's hand took his, this time, pulling Shintarou off the chair and leading to the way out of the library. For all his might, Shintarou felt too shocked to protest, too dazed to release his hands, and too eager for the forthcoming nameless liberty to do it differently anyway.

"What, cat got your tongue? I've been watching Oha Asa in advance to be prepared for your outrageous and sometimes difficult handling. I've been wondering why you didn't trust me enough to ask me in the first place, but I guess it's to be expected from a stuck up like you."

Pushing his glasses up, Shintarou hid his small growing smile fairly well. "I'm not-"

"You are! Don't deny it. And don't give me this 'embarrassed' bullshit. You once walked around with an ero magazine because it was your lucky item, I'll never forget it." They walked out of the library together, Takao furiously talking without looking at him, thumb pressing numbers and calling Ootsubo and explaining-

“Yes, sorry, we have another Oha Asa ridiculosity on our hands. I’m taking care of it. It would be swell if Midorima could use up his selfish count for this one go. Have fun eating. Miyaji-senpai, it would be awesome if you wouldn’t interrupt- yes. Yes. Yes I understand! You got it. Twenty laps no problem. _Yes_ , now, could I have the cap- Oh yeah, hang up on me, why don’t you.” Takao turned around, smile faded from his lips but not from his eyes. “I hope you take in it into consideration, having me worried over you, kissing you, now getting yelled at by two of our fearsome seniors AND missing out the once-in-our-lifetimes, all-we-could-have-eaten dinner, I’m expecting something quite big in return-”

“Shut up, fool, I’m taking care of it.”

“Good, just wanted that established. The shit I have to go through with you. Impossible.” The whole day had been, quite so, and while Shintarou fell in step beside him, while his heart still pumped a fucking fanfare in his being, he couldn’t help but be happy with the outcome; strangely holding hands in an empty building, with Takao ranting his ears full.

*~*~*

It's the first week after the library incident, and Shintarou learned a few things about Taka- (- _Kazunari_ , to which he still can't bring himself up to use first names with, although he likes it so much when Shintarou says it), among being insatiable. A good kisser, granted, whose hands know exactly what to do as well, and someone who doesn't brag about it. He doesn't know how to feel about the last part; it's gratefulness about the way Kazunari's kisses drive him insane, without being made fun of afterwards (-hair a riot, glasses askew, panting, hungering for more and chasing those teasing, always smiling lips). It's confusion overpowering the need to wish for more, while his skin lights up like a leaf in a wild fire. Some minutes alone with the spiderweb of what has been his acquaintance, gone teammate, gone friend, yet evolving to become something else entirely -leave him hot all over most of the time. It’s in the way he watched Shintarou, talks to him, touches him with simple gestures which mean nothing too dramatic. It’s been there before, something unlabeled and free and distant. It hasn’t changed so much, only a meaning was added. A strong, consuming, fiery beast. It's barely there, the interesting gaze which whispers of something more, with less clothes, something than can only end in an even bigger embarrassing situation.

 _And yet here they are_. Kimura and Miyaji still took it out on their freshman duo for not coming to dine with everyone last week, and the two of them have evening duties, long when everyone else has gone. It’s fine with them, being entrusted, lured into a safety of the locker rooms where they can unravel even further.

It's furious and demanding, the newly acquired beast called lust. Provoked to push Kazunari against the lockers, push his own body with force against him and take the lips and the clothes and the hair and the new look so void of mirth or hunger or disgust; only a mere, cold gaze, guarded, hiding the heat with a composed self-esteem. One, Shintarou knows deep down, has been given from him to Kazunari on more uncountable occasions.

It's why he kisses without peeking at Kazunari. He cannot stand the all-seeing and understanding gaze, so uninterested and superiorly searching, as if they already _know_ information Shintarou is still broods over. With his closed eyes, the whole situation changes and feels better. Kazunari's hands move under the many fabrics which keep Shintarou's body warm, without a tickling tease or hidden treachery; hands on his skin because they want to feel close to him, just hold out there. The tongue pushes through gently and it makes his hips buck when they kiss in earnest. A consuming need to devour him where he stands, to unmake, and map out the fit body with marks of ownership, deciphering each spot on the following days. Shintarou never felt this way about another person before and it's all too much of something he never knew he would have to deal with one day. Whatever he desires, Takao lets him, digging their graves deeper into the new found liberty of being allowed to.

Kazunari is wanton, open, letting him reign free and reads his mind as if it resembled a book he knew by heart. Shintarou thinks of what might feel good for himself and Kazunari complies without a look or a word. Placing his hands on Shintarou's hips to warm them up, widening his stance for a knee to go up and knead into the hardening folds up his body. Grabbing the back of Shintarou's head and push, tilt it, just the right way. Kazunari does everything Shintarou wants, instinctively right, and it's a mystery. A like created, a need sated, and the bastards doesn't even need telling.

"Hold still for a moment, wait." Shintarou's body listens to the command, while his tongue slips back into the mouth. The movement below slowly takes shape, and then he feels to go forward; Kazunari propped his leg to Shintarou’s hip and urges him on to come closer. When he does, something else awakens inside of him, the soft whispered fire to kindle in his stomach and whirls down to his lower regions, begging to be unleashed and rule without a care left. Out of fear and uncertainty, the thought doesn't follow action, and Kazunari becomes impatient, bites his lips before he speaks up, showing how cracked he is beneath the calm surface.

"Fucking damnit, don't just stand there. _Move_ , Shin." It takes more than a second, in which Shintarou hides his lips melted to Kazunari’s, until he finally does as prompted. Moving his hips feels awkward and perfect at the same time, and once Kazunari starts to moan inside his mouth, he cannot stop. The feel of fabric both good and irritating. It's safe, and without Kazunari's fingers going in between, Shintarou sees no need either to try and undress them now.

It’s satisfying at first, as he gyrates the newly discovered and closely guarded need to Kazunari, who is just as well off and about to go down further. Shintarou clasps his hand below the upheld knee, helping out and widening the leg to move stronger. Basketball shoes squeak on the ground, eagerness to please and Kazunari’s willingness inviting him closer to the mouth of Hell, a fiery breath on his lips their bittersweet tunes cascading his inhibitions. He feels Kazunari becoming hard from the unrelenting motions, himself unable to do much on one leg, leaving it all to Shintarou. It’s not the pushing off responsibility, it’s trust and something else...Kazunari dares him out to control and heat up the situations.

And then it floods over; his hips impatient as they start to trust to the submitting body, rubbing his own hardness to his, friction of clothing but good and well-hated, yet a protection he needs to keep some sort of sanity inside his barrier. Fingers had held on to hair, grabbed it too harsh and let go. Held onto shoulders, afraid to bruise and harm so he let balled fists grate his knuckles on the lockers he’s dry-fucking Kazunari against (-it’s impossible to think, unbearable to breath). Kazunari’s small and un-kept sounds flow like a red string pulling his windpipe tight while he loves the feel of losing it against Kazunari. His eyes tempted on opening when he hears his name called from the sinner’s lips, and he follows that ‘Shintarou’ plead with eager fingers under warm clothes. Deeper, beneath the waistband, going to the back-

Which becomes dangerous. He stops himself, literally pushing his hands off the warmth and to the cold steel lockers, making his body give back a freedom he’d stolen (-been given, to be frank). Eyes still closed, breathing in like inhaling fires and ashes. The leg falls off his hip and Kazunari’s own breath fall on Shintarou’s bowed head.

"We shouldn't do this...here."

"Feeling you Shin-chan, figuratively and literally. We could visit my place if you like..?" _God how he wants it._

"...Mhn, okay. First, however-" Again, Shintarou forces his eyes away and hide deeper emotions, feeling dirt, in a good way notwithstanding. Surprised to see the same reaction, if lighter, on Kazunari’s flushed face. If they go too far too fast-

"Y-yeah got it, I need to clean up too~!" It’s not as if they went all the way on the first try. Shintarou nods and releases his arms, letting Kazunari free to go and fix himself. It’s painful within those slack baggy pants for himself too. Seating himself on the bench, not bothering to put on music (-trying not to hear what happens in the showers, while his ears are perched with the need to hear those distinct sounds), he stoically tries to will his hardness away, to no avail. Kazunari is quick about it, returns with a big wide smile that hides something sincere, pats his back and tells him to go.

They’re not using the shower, actually. Only cleansing with the water to wash of the sweat from training and now from wilder things. Touching himself with sealed lips and thinking Kazunari, shaking his head. They’re getting in deeper, and there’s no way out.

“Shin-chan, I just decided something great. You’re buying dinner!” 

*~*~*

They ended up getting into a family restaurant and out of it with filled stomachs and all needs satisfied. However, Kazunari’s home was lively today, and so they found an park off-distance and void of any other people. 

Although all things had gone better than expected, and only with a minimum of self-loathing at how easily his core was turned on, Shintarou twitched on the bench. Sitting down, he had waited for Kazunari to do the same- beside him, not on top of him. This kind of closeness was of a different kind, as Shintarou learned the different kinds existed by doing some of it. This was qualified as category ‘non-sexual/but could be’, classifying to a need of being together and earnest, talking freely and with maybe a kiss thrown in if any of the parties wanted to. If anything, bringing logic into the account helped Shintarou relax. That, and Kazunari’s fingers on his arm.

"Tell, what's your experience anyway? I've never seen you get on the dates girls invite you for. Do you actually think of anything else apart of basketball?" Shintarou had been surveying at him the whole time, averting his head now to stare straight ahead to an unmoving swing. Kazunari smiled, a second hand guiding his jaw, redirecting it back to face and inevitably, answer him.

"You're impossible..." Using his thumb, Kazunari played with the chin before he pulled it (-like the first time) with the addition of a nail scratching and inviting Shintarou in for a warm kiss. One of those enticing Shintarou into talking once the moving, gentle lips relieved their presence on top of his own. "Well, guess you got a new hobby."

"And that would be?" Leaves rustled behind them, a summer breeze, tricking Shintarou’s hand to hold on tighter to a chuckling Kazunari, kissing his cheek. 

"Me, of course." 

“Hmph. I don’t see you as a hobby-”

“As opposite of…?”

“Many things, like a persistent menace, for example.” Shintarou gazed away after his matter-of-fact deliverance, guiding his glasses back up his nose, where they’d slide off for a millimeter. He knew for one it wouldn’t make a difference, being a bit difficult with him. Second, Kazunari made sure Shintarou knew he was just all too pleased. 

“Sweet.” Kazunari smiled, hearing something completely else while his arms went around Shintarou’s torso, embracing him while his head settled beneath Shintarou’s chin and on his shoulders. Kazunari was quite impossible, knowing Shintarou spoke more freely about these things when he wasn’t being studied by the piercing gaze. The warmth a pleasant addition, and so he indulged him.

“I’ve kiss a girl in junior school, and danced with another. That’s about it. I didn’t have much interest in them from the beginning.”

“Eh, really? So boys were your thing-”

“I meant in general, fool.”

“So it was you and your left- no wait, right hand huh? Yeah, Shin-chan would definitely use his right hand…” He mumbled sincerely, while Shintarou suppressed the urge to hit him. Taking the object of unneeded interested away, he asked the same question.

“Mhn, me? You wanna know~?” Kazunari glanced up, wide grin impeccable. “Don’t be jealous though. I’m not a cute little virgin like you.” The warning had come and Shintarou would have laughed about it right off, if not for the following words. “I guess it’s a good thing at least one of us knows what to do, practically-”

“Boys-”

“Don’t come with details, Shin-chan; different entrance, same technique. We’ll figure it out together.” Settling back into the warmth, Shintarou willed his arms to enclose Kazunari (and not choke him; that would be a smear on their trust). He’d been on a slight edge, knowing Kazunari had more experience than him, actually had done it...that last sentiment, the promise of having new experiences _exclusively_ with each other, cooled off any wicked jealous thoughts created, leashed it back on and hid it in a cage.

“Yeah...if I don’t strangle you first.”

*~*~*

It wasn’t as if their dirty little secret was kept alive only in the locker room and only after practice. In the following two weeks, they found themselves in any nook and cranny fit enough for two fit guys as themselves. Fingers daring to go further but not yet far enough, teeth biting on lips, then skin, followed by one unfortunate event of Shintarou biting on his tongue (which he apologized for, and then stated it was well-deserved and meant). Slowly but surely, Kazunari became blessed in knowing Shintarou finally got on verge to look at him and calling him by his first name when they were alone.

Getting him to agree to Kazunari's proposed plans was a rare wonder in itself. He could count those on one hand, which brushed past Shintarou's, on their way to Kazunari's home. They had kept it under control, kissing and touching for as short as they could handle, as light as they were able to hold back. Once, Shintarou's hand trailed down a path between Kazunari's legs, and sad as it is, being the more-composed of the two (-and endangered to boot), he had to push Shintarou away and remind him of the offer from last week. 'Tonight, after practise?' had been a loose invite, one he had expected a ‘not this week’ in return, while hoping to get a ‘maybe’ out of him. 

When Shintarou nodded... well. Kazunari nearly threw his phone across the street when he whipped it out of his pocket. He messaged his cute little sister about hopping over to the neighbors for a few hours. Send his father a text explaining he should let it loose tonight after work and drink a bit with his colleagues. Then he phoned his mother, saying she could use a break and go to her friend's house for the night and not worry about anything. Everything in preparation to have a few private moments. 

While the evenings got warmer and summer was at their doorstep, he enjoyed the fresh air in front of their training shall, crossing his hands behind his head and talked a steady stream to Shintarou, both their Shuutoku trainings jacket loose and sleeves pulled up. It was no rare sight seen; they had been spending time together beforehand, ate together, walked to vending machines (like now), talked freely. The two of them together, but now… _together_.

Kazunari was still overwhelmed at the pace things had spun out of control and into the right path. Having organ failure whenever your crush was around -in his situation, all the time- had been hard enough to deal with. To read they had to receive a kiss as lucky item had made Kazunari jumpy, on edge, and irritable on that crazy morning, making sure to keep a tight eye on Shintarou and make even surer he wouldn't have time nor privacy enough to get the ‘item’. The hall had been one thing (-the dangerous, little temptation, setting his body in a state of emergency, when Shintarou had nearly tried to initiate something imperfect) and Shintarou’s hand around his wrist was the last straw, a dam being broken; he remembered bringing his face close to Shin's, who didn't avoid the intimate contact of lips the second time.

It was fun, good, and all sorts of perfect what happened afterward. Dinner at Maji burger, bought by Shin, a ride home, given by Kazunari. They'd shared another kiss without anyone seeing it, and Shintarou had checked around one more time to make sure no one saw him pecking at Kazunari’s cheek and forehead, before going inside his house. And now, Kazunari brought him home to his own place, to his own room. _To do stuff_. He was crazy excited, while smiling away Shintarou's nervosity, seeping through in stolen glances and clearing throats and fingers trying to grab his in stealth.

It had gone quite calm in the first half hour. Kazunari was the perfect host, making sure Shintarou felt at home and more at ease before they made their way up to Kazunari's room. Changing into clothes which were neither the black Shuutoku high uniform, or the bright orange basketball clothes, they'd talked light subjects, while Kazunari's fingers brushed over Shintarou's. The next moment, they were kissing, and Shintarou's eagerness won over his shy disposition, tackling Kazunari and sitting on his lap for once. Before, it had been Kazunari making himself at home on top of Shinatarou, arms around the neck, smile widening at the pleasant warm feel of having this to claim his own. Always, with this iron stare looking up at him, long lashes doing things to Kazunari's inside household.

It's funny how Shintarou always tries to stare him down, even more so now. Kazunari can hold the stare, hinting for a search and uncomprehending. Really, this neat guy with a borderline OCD problem, who took such care of anything else in his life. He had a hard time dealing with the new situation. Instead of just letting go and letting himself fall, he tried to hold his ground, so afraid of what could happen if he'd let go once and trust another person to catch him.

Kazunari smiled when he tried to link their fingers together, bandages scruffing between his own bare ones. The feel of the white thin-striped cloth is something he got used to, getting to know the exact width and thickness of it. Both hands were now linked, and Shintarou eyed them as if he couldn't understand how two different hands could fit together so plain good. Meanwhile, since he was at home anyway, Kazunari declined his back down, until he lay in all his awaiting glory, smile still in place. He’d been quite pleased of having stolen one of Shintarou’s larger shirts before, enabling him to lend it to him at his place. A grey loose shirt, black baggy pants, naked feet, and all evening to get it off, if he would get his way (and if Shin-chan was up for it).

"Typical. Why do you complicate things when they can be this easy, huh?" Joking around, Kazunari rolled his hips up and bumped his crotch against Shintarou's, liking the out of the blue gotten reaction; a gasp, eyes losing dignity as they widened, the faintest of all blushes beneath the super long bottom lashes. "Come on, move it. I'm the one lying down, meaning you should do the work for once."

"What kind of work do you imply?" Rolling his eyes, Kazunari let his lips curve into a smile, finding Shintarou's innocence and suppressed anxiety in these things quite endearing. At the first part of their 'friendship', Shintarou would act like a child needing proper explaining. That much hadn’t changed when they redefined their relationship status (-into having one).

"Remember what I do when I sit on your lap?" He waited for an answer, received it in a nod (-a face looking away, as if his cheeks would turn invisible by the action, hide the soft blush gracing that perfect face of ridiculous cool). "It feels good to you, right? Now try copying it."

The hand not hold in a link set itself on Kazunari's shoulder, the face still looking to the other side of the room. Cheeks tainted with colour, but if you’d asked him, he’d straight out deny such a thing. Slow, intimately, Shintarou started to circle his waist, hips a sweet misery of stiffness combined with enough gyration to make Kazunari's pants uncomfortable.

"That's it...don't be shy." Being more experienced, literally taking Shintarou by the hand and muttering what he likes, Kazunari kept his eyes on Shintarou, as he was prone to do, with an unrelenting gaze. It was trust he tried to send off, security, lust too, letting the quiet riot on top of him know he did so well. Since their little near-mishap in the locker rooms, the one time they had to separate and take a cold shower, they hadn’t dared to go full throttle. It had been a few-worded agreement to wait, until Kazunari could get the house cleared out and Shintarou get his nerves together and agree to come to such an empty place for specific reasons

Being here now, with him, was surreal, cutting at his bonds to keep it cool, and fucking fantastic. 

“Damn...I taught you well.”

“Shut up...I’m concentrating…” 

“On what? Getting my dick hard- oh shit.” In all their time, Shintarou closed his eyes, unseeing Kazunari’s always open ones, which defined fear and trust as it rode between them. And for the first time, Shintarou opened his to look at Kazunari, while the one lying down had to close them and bite his lip in turn. He’d seen it, before he had to close his lids in pleasure, the open surprised look on Shintarou’s face.

“L-like I tried saying. Getting my dick hard is no big deal. Well done…” The friction made him crazy sensitive, and in that tiny second, he’d been overwhelmed by getting hard _and_ have Shintarou ride on him sensually. Whatever had happened between getting his wrist caught in a air-lock tight grip, overcoming his doubts and pushing his leg up against Shintarou’s waist, to swallowing down insecurities and ask Shintarou over, somewhere along the path of falling, Shintarou freed a monster of suppressed control, which was now set loose upon Kazunari. It came in form of fingers hooking on Kazunari’s waistband (-and he was too perplexed to react), and pulling them off.

It flipped-sided everything. Not letting go of their linked hands, Kazunari brought his other arm over his eyes, all of a sudden, shy. He was still smiling, but it came out with force used, trying to reassure Shintarou nothing was wrong. While his pants were pulled over his feet, he dared a look at the man who would be his undoing; Shintarou was calm, logical, not so afraid anymore. Kazunari had known from the start how they would end up, and now it finally would happen, his stomach cramped up and his toes curled in. The moment he thought he needed a timeout, was silenced when Shintarou lay back on him, brushing his cheek and calling him out-

“Kazunari, are you okay?” He fucking wasn’t, the reality of what they could do tonight hitting him broadside. “You’re not usually this timid.” There was amusement in his voice, nothing too harsh Kazunari couldn’t define as endearment. A bit of perplexity riding the tone, a sense of pride returning. From the start, from the very start of fantasizing about Shintarou without him knowing, Kazunari had seen himself always as the one receiving whatever he would be allowed to get. Getting the real thing to take of his pants and sit quietly on his lap, knowing he would go between the legs, scared him.

“Don’t worry, Shin, I’m only a little nervous! You’re a big guyafter all.” Omitting the suffix was the first mistake, keeping on smiling the second, and playing it cool the third. Shintarou saw through him, took his other hand as well and made Kazunari face him, demanding nothing to be hidden from his stare.

“If you rather want to stop,”

“No, nu-uh, not happening.” Whatever they can do, they would do it tonight. Kazunari couldn’t live through another day just looking and barely touching and fantasizing about someone he could call his own. 

“Shall I lie down?” _That_ would only make it worse! “Wait, what are we supposed to do anyway, I’m not even sure.” Kazunari blinked his surprise, thinking about it. “Are we...doing _that_ , or-” Although he spoke as if not affected, Shintarou’s blush creeped a shade darker on his skin, diminishing his coolness to Kazunari’s great relief. They were both nervous and unsure, as they should be, as it is okay to be.

“No, I don’t think...not yet we shouldn’t. Maybe...something else?”

“What?”

“We could…” Shit, now _he_ became the one blushing! “Hnn, do it with hands?” Shintarou tilted his head to the side, indecision written all over it. 

“I’ve been doing that on my own all this time, I thought we’d do something with more involvement.” And like that, Kazunari’s fears all but vanished in a loud sputtering laugh. He had to hide his face again, this time with mirth, feeling warm and secure beneath Shintarou and incredibly in love with him.

“No, not just- Shin! I meant, we’d do each other, you know?” Still not getting it, Kazunari had to explain in detail they could masturbate together, by doing ‘a favour’.

“Oh.” Shintarou faced away, disgusted with his own innocence and inexperience. “Then be more clear about it from the start! It’s really confusing if you don’t speak up clearly.”

Kazunari chuckled when he sat up, pressing his forehead against Shintarou’s chest. “My sincerest apologies. Let’s take it easy, mhn? And let’s get those clothes off, while we’re at it.” It was so much easier afterwards. Finally, they got on the same page. Once the clothes were off and the lights gone out, they were able to even out fears and kissing them away, not mouth to mouth but whatever their mouths were capable of doing to the skin; Shintarou found out about sensitive places on Kazunari, by going down on him and kissing different places; sometimes Kazunari would guide his head and the following tongue, dying on the inside at the feel of a flat tongue on his collarbone, the peak of it tracing the line on his chest, teeth crossing at his waist. Kazunari was delighted to hear his name flutter off those open lips, when he returned the favour, enclosing a nipple in his mouth for two seconds and then licking his way to the belly button. They changed positions without saying a word, one moved, while one followed. A symbiose they’d created on the court now followed in another battle, a friendly one.

It ended at the earlier made agreement. They’d gone crazy standing, sitting, one atop, one below, having this little power play and try make the other crumble. Leaving it all out, they simply reclined in perfect harmony on the side, facing without shyness or doubt. Hands took a tentative, then firm grip around each other’s hard lengths, Kazunari looking down to be sure that this was really happening, feeling Shintarou’s eyes on his (-always one to make sure he did the right thing, pleasing the right way, not making a complete fool out of himself. And even if Shintarou would mess up, Kazunari was clear that he wouldn’t laugh, wouldn’t be patronizing. He took him by the hand and showed him the way). It was so much easier in the dark, after laughing it off, communicating clearly about needs. Shintarou held him in a in a loose embrace, his right arm over Kazunari’s waist, his left hand having lost the taping when his shorts went. It started of with a slow pace, testing waters, until they had to kiss moans in each other’s mouths, close eyes and just _feel_.

In the end, Kazunari dared to sit on top of Shintarou before he came (-who had nearly pulled him on top, a wish in his eyes that Kazunari followed), looking down and smiling, while Shintarou had a dazed look all the way to the end; before his face scrunched up beautifully with his orgasm rushing out. It was a mess when they came, the majority of it on Shintarou’s stomach, who told Kazunari to clean it up immediately because he disliked the stickiness. It was a mess, yeah, but it was theirs.

*~*~*

He followed the light with eager pedalling, knees screaming in agony and begging him to stop fucking moving. Losing energy along the way and the chill of the evening running over his naked arms, Kazunari took a turn, pedalled with his all his strength and stopped abruptly at the signs for sweet, oh so sweet refreshments. Ignoring Shintarou's questioning silence, he searched his hoodie's stomach pocket for some small exchange and chose a well-deserved drink from the vending machine.

It was pure heaven, the sweet of coconut soda running down inside his throat in large gulps. Half of the can was gone before he stopped drinking, feeling as if he just inhaled all of it in one go. Turning around to his seated prince in his carriage, he twitched his shoulders, said _fuck it_ in his head, and stepped over the wood, seating himself down on Shintarou's lap, kneeing the penguin out of the way to rest easy. Quick fingers pushed the sunglasses into the green mop of hair, a half-blind but still searching gaze crossing over Kazunari's silhouette.

"What the Hell do you think you're doing?" Kazunari settled his ass more comfortably on Shintarou’s crotch, loving the twitching from the body while the face was ready to play poker.

"Relaxing. The same thing you've been doing all day."

Getting Shintarou on edge was his favourite past time, and so he exposed his neck while he took another sip. Gulping down in front of him, as he had found out this week, did certain things to Shintarou’s well-guarded walls (-so-called walls created to fend off whatever wickedness Kazunari would throw at him when they were in public). Giving Shintarou some space, he slipped off him, bringing his back against one of Shintarou’s legs and pressed it against the wooden carriage. Kazunari widened his legs with a dirty smile, grinded the side of his ass against the crotch with a delighted moan. He felt bandaged fingers at his ankles, balling to a fist. Looking around, sunglasses now interchanged for glasses, the sour look on Shintarou's face thousand times worth anything.

"Comfortable?"

"You have no idea." Leaning back on Shintarou’s propped up knee, Kazunari slung his arm on the wooden edge, fingers tapping a rhythm, sighing happily and offering his soda to Shin, who took it without a word.

"You don't care if people see us like this?"

"I'm not going to pedal all the way to your house just now. If you're not at ease, you can very well change positions with me for once. I'm fucking tired." In truth, no; it didn't matter if strangers or acquaintances saw them like this. Kazunari had to hide all his life, he didn't feel like doing it anymore, not now he got a fit body to fight back and an even bigger sort-of mate who could give out a mean right hook. And anyway, Shin exaggerated; they were only sitting close, not even back to chest!

"If you'd pedal us all the way back to my house, I might invite you for home cooked dinner." Kazunari's ears twitched to the proposal, but wanted to double up the stakes. He knew 'home cooked' meant Shintarou would call for take out (-he also knew this to be Shintarou’s way of inviting him over to spend the night).

" _Just_ dinner?"

Shintarou didn't smile a lot, and when he did in public, it was usually a mean, superior one, dripping with a snarky remark or a nasty comment. Before the whole lucky item debacle of a few weeks back, Kazunari had been one of the few who had seen nicer smiles on this stoic face. One reserved for small animals (-if they weren't cats), American game shows (the sadist) and every full moon or so, one for Kazunari as well. It wasn't a full moon tonight, and yet, within the bright lights of the vending machine and the sounds of people busying themselves home, Kazunari was graced with one of those rare, sincere, nice smiles.

"And maybe dessert, if you behave well." The undertone was enough for Kazunari; he grabbed the can back, took a long last gulp of what was left, handed it over and stretched himself out of the back-car, readying himself for an all-out race. His knees might give out before the night was out, but he was sure Shintarou would turn them to butter eventually.

*~*~*

Catching his breath, watching Shintarou wipe the sweat of his forehead; Kazunari smiled, while his whole body trembled with the aftershocks. Taking it easy in the beginning had meant for them to try and take it slow, while everything they thought of and wanted to do, wretched their pace, as it demanded to be fast and hungry and all-consuming. 

The mention of 'dessert' had Kazunari thinking of a few possibilities, but getting a blowjob from Shintarou was a rare feat. While he went off to clean his mouth, Kazunari put his arms behind his heads and smiled as he reminisced their shaky start. 

What they'd taken away from the time frottage and hands were the only things they allowed themselves to do, sblowjobs had come in not late after. An idea whispered at night, a 4:39 am deprivement of sleep and over-indulging, a ‘should we?’ changing to ‘let’s fucking do it’. It had gone wrong in the most of fun way, Kazunari had choked on the first go, and Shintarou had felt so bad he made them switch; only to dislike the taste, feel, and overall situation which had brought him on his knees. Hurt in his feelings, Kazunari had shown the anger he could muster off in special cases (- _’Midorima’_ special cases, as he was prone to drag the last name out in a snarl when he wasn’t amused with Shintarou’s behaviour), gave it another try and collected success, making Shintarou ball fist full of hair and blankets and more hair, claw his way across Kazunari’s back, say his first name in a prayer and came with an unforeseen force in Kasunari’s mouth. While the sun had started to creep over the rooftops and they had walked to the shower, shaken, Shintarou had mustered up his courage to give the whole ordeal another try; returning the world-flipping favour without so much as a temble on his lips.

After the mood-changing night, they were able to do more than just using their hands. It came easier now, and it had become a good built up to the next step, whenever they felt ready to make it. They took slow steps, they stumbled, but held onto it, Kazunari laughing and Shintarou hiding his face with a blush.

Incapable of only receiving joyment without giving it out, the second thing they had learned to do in the time before they would agree to have sex (-the thing which hung over them with every 6 second look, every time they saw each other naked, every time they took showers together, every time their hands got sticky and their mouths panted for more. It was about to happen, really soon; all they did was one giant long foreplay), was trying out anything not requiring Shintarou’s cock inside Kazunari’s ass. One of those things was the infamous 69 position. The number had made Kazunari snigger all his way through his teenage years, and he couldn't help but smile after getting good orgasm out of now. 

“What are you laughing about, deviant?” Shintarou rubbed his neck, being the one who had lied down and had to pull his neck off to suck Kazunari off. Latter waited until Shintarou relaxed enough to extend his arm and invite him in to curl up at Shintarou’s side.

“Just how amazingly cute you have been since I kissed you.”

“The...first one?” Shintarou hesitancy only made him more adorable. 

“Yep~!” Kazunari brimmed with happiness, sliding his arm around Shintarou while he felt a warm blanket being pulled over him. He was sated by ‘home cooked’ food, had ‘dessert’ with their newly found sucking off technique, and he liked to remember the past while Shintarou indulged him in an embrace.

“You never regretted it?”

“Shin-chan, of course not.” He kissed place on the chest were Shintarou’s heart was hiding, a fragile thing, which fright Kazunari had taken with smiles and touches and kisses and kindness. It got easier for them, every week passing in heat and longing and a bond strengthened, without becoming a burden too heavy to wear.

“Mhn, me neither. My luck certainly increased after receiving that item.” Kazunari had to hide his face, forehead sliding past Shintarou’s ribcage, his hair tickling the armpit, fist balling and ready to hit him, wanting to say he should shut up but biting his smiling lips in fear he’d burst. Shintarou had the most ridiculous ways to say ‘I love you’, and it still made Kazunari crazy when he uttered it.

**Author's Note:**

> Annette: I loved the fic but it's not finished, right? They didn't have sex!?
> 
> One day I will write them doing the thing but today wasn't the day (neither the last 8 months I had this bad boy in google docs).


End file.
